by Rebecca Hamilton

Cold, dreary nights

The frosty grip of winter

Keeping a heart

Close to death's throne

Even in the frozen land of lost souls

There is found some beauty

Like the cold crisp air that makes

The sparkling stars brighter

Ice roses grasped tightly

Bloom in the perpetual snow

Stay in the high walled garden

Without a thought of freedom

For even though it is winter

He still loves the garden fair

And walks around touching the roses

With a lovers caress

The pure white powder

Covers the small flowered haven

With a blanket of emotion

While the frigid wind tosses it around

This wind, however playful,

Bites the poor roses

Till they are senseless

Unable to feel anything good or bad

The loss of the senses is so gradual

So slow to take it's hold

The flowers don't know what

The garden has been missing

Until the inevitable happens

A ray of sunshine

Falls on unopened buds

Warming them with friendship

The walls thicken, winter grows colder

Trying to keep the sunbeam out

A lost battle from the beginning

As the roses start to awaken

Little by little the mortar in the walls

Start to crumble to dust

The land grows warmer

The icy hands of death are forced away

A small green shoot

Breaks up through the powdered snow

The first triumph against

The rule of winter

The color comes back

To snow covered roses

Tipped with red warmth

They are half fire, half ice

Winter try's fiercely to keep

His death grip on the garden

With a promise of spilled blood

From sharp icy knives

But still a message of hope

Slips through the barriers

Put up by garden and

The bitter love of winter

Just a small message

That changes the garden

One crocus in a field

Of deep, suffocating snow

For even though winter

Has loved the garden

It is time for spring to teach the garden

About growth and a new love